Harry's mistake
by HR always live on
Summary: Set in the mythical world where 5-5 never happened. Harry and Ruth are married but separated. Read, review and enjoy! Now complete.
1. Chapter 1

**A short chapter to start with. Not a very happy topic, but have faith.**

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Ruth woke up with a start and she groaned. Rolling over she looked at the alarm clock. 5:21 a.m. She'd never get more sleep now. She'd had trouble drifting off in the first place, in her big, empty, lonely bed. A bed without her husband in it. Well, that, and the fact that the tears just wouldn't stop flowing. Swinging her legs out of bed, she rubbed her face trying to get some energy to face the day. It was a struggle just to go on at the moment. Everything she'd ever known seemed to have irrevocably changed within minutes. Ruth could feel the prick of tears beginning again. "No," she told herself. "It's not worth it."

But even so, she couldn't help feeling like she'd swallowed live snakes. Her stomach was churning and all she wanted to do was cry, turn over in bed and sleep the entire day away. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Or no, that wasn't entirely fair, she thought, her anger giving way to rationality for a moment. But only a moment before she returned to a livid fury going through her bloodstream.

She got up and opened the wardrobe. Their clothes hung side by side, as if her world hadn't been torn apart. She let her hand trail over his shirts and his silk ties, still hanging there. Still smelling faintly of him. Harry had left in a hurry last night, without even waiting for her to kick him out. It was probably wise on his part, not to be near her until she'd calmed down. _Calmed down,_ she thought, almost snorting to herself with derision. What a ridiculous thought! Ruth had wanted to kill him. She still did. To hurt him the way he'd hurt her, so it was almost a relief that Harry wasn't here. Although that relief was going to be short lived when she got onto the grid. God, how was she going to face everyone?

It was bad enough that Harry had cheated on her. It was even worse that every single person she worked with knew it. She didn't want to see pity or worse on their faces. Today was going to be terrible.

Ruth needed to distract herself from the all too vivid images of Harry and that blonde bitch in bed together. She went into the bathroom and then stopped at the doorway. Sitting on the sink were Harry's shaving cream and razor, the aftershave on the bathroom shelf. The entire room had a scent of Harry. Subtle, but it was definitely there. She breathed in deeply, letting the remnants of his presence fill her. This time she couldn't stop the tears from falling. She let them, crying in the silence, wondering if Harry was thinking about her. Did she hope he was? Or hope he wasn't?

Ruth looked at her left hand. Her rings, symbols that said to the world that she was committed to a man for the rest of her life. To Harry. That she was in love. That she trusted Harry with her heart and her life. And that trust had been completely destroyed. She twisted the rings around her finger and, very slowly, pulled them off. They parted from her skin with a reluctance which surprised her. Like they'd almost moulded to her skin, which was ridiculous. They were two circles of metal, they couldn't bond to her skin.

She went back into the bedroom and put the rings carefully in her jewelry box. Whatever had happened, she couldn't throw them away or discard them casually. Even if she never spoke to Harry again, she couldn't part with them completely. They were a sign that once upon a time, she'd been deeply in love. Could she ever forgive him for this?

Attempting to think of something else, (and failing miserably) she got into the shower and used the lime body wash that Harry hated and washed her hair, hoping that it would help wipe her mind. It didn't.

By the time she'd forced herself to eat some breakfast it was only half past six. She decided she'd go to work. Hopefully she'd be first on the grid and wouldn't have to walk past everyone else's pitying gazes. Maybe one at a time would be easier. Or maybe she'd become so absorbed in the paperwork on global terrorism she wouldn't care as much. Maybe anything in the world was better than sitting in this house, brooding and crying.

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**Don't hate Harry, and again have faith! Please leave a review, and more soon.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Massive thanks to TheChicaChic who helped me with this chapter. Also thanks to everyone who ****read and r****eviewed. Hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.**

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The tube was nearly empty at this time in the morning, so Ruth had nothing to distract her while heading towards Thames House. Heading onto the grid, she was relieved to find it empty. Not even a cleaner around. Although the blinds to Harry's office were drawn. She hoped he wasn't in there, and she hoped even more so that he hadn't slept there too. The sofa would prove to be hell on his back. Then she remembered that she needn't worry about his bodily ailments any longer.

She sat down, switched on the computer and then pulled her chair close to her desk. Then she kicked her shoes off and sighed with the simple pleasure of bare feet. Typing in her password, she let herself become absorbed with paperwork that needed updating. Most paperwork was now on a computer as opposed to being on physical paper, but she didn't mind. She focused on every case and issue they'd worked on, except for yesterdays one. She couldn't deal with that. Let Malcolm or Jo push the paperwork through. She didn't care who did it, as long as it wasn't her.

Just for a moment she found herself becoming absorbed in the familiarity of the work, and then she jerked as she heard the pods whirring. Looking up, all she could think was "please don't be Harry." It wasn't. Jo came onto the grid, saw Ruth and then walked straight towards her.

"Hi Ruth," the blonde said quickly. "Listen…"

"No," she replied firmly. "I want no one to talk about what happened yesterday. I don't want to be pitied and I don't want to be laughed at for being the stupid little wife who naively thought her husband would be faithful to her."

"It's not like that and you know it," Jo said, her blue eyes wide.

"I know," Ruth admitted, lowering her eyes to her keyboard. "But I'm angry, bitter and very, very hurt. I'm going to say things I don't mean."

"Fair enough," Jo said. "I wanted to talk to you alone. Before everyone else gets here. Can you…"

"What do you want?" Ruth asked, her voice flat and lifeless.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Jo asked gently.

"Actually yes," she said. "You can fill out the paperwork for the Elizabeth Fortescue case. I know it's a lot of work, what with everything that happened and the ramifications, but… I can't… I just can't face it."

"Of course," she said. "I'll get it done as soon as possible."

"Thank you Jo." She spoke sincerely, knowing that not having to do that was a major relief to her. "Where is she? Elizabeth Fortescue?"

"I don't know," Jo lied.

"Come on. I didn't stay on the grid to… find out what happened after Harry and her had… I went home. Where is she? What happened?"

"She's in prison. Where she belongs."

"Good," she said with a sigh of relief. Ruth resumed typing and Jo hovered for a moment. But then, sensing her presence was unwelcome, she turned to leave.

"Oh, Jo!" Ruth called back. The blonde turned, eyebrows lifted in question. "What erm… what happened to the tapes? And the video recordings?"

"The ones relating to the case are in Adam's desk," Jo said. "The ones I think you're interested in have vanished."

"Where?"

"Harry destroyed them."

"Of course he did," she muttered to herself. "Thanks." Ruth returned to her work, hitting the keyboard slightly harder than necessary until she'd calmed down. At least, become calm enough to see straight.

* * *

Harry woke up with a groan. Sleeping in his office was a terrible idea and his neck twinged painfully. His eyes were drawn to beneath his desk where he kept his whisky. God, he was tempted. He looked at his watch. 7:45. He'd slept longer than he thought, but it was hardly acceptable to start drinking this early in the day. No matter what had happened yesterday. He looked down at his crumpled shirt and trousers, and was relieved he'd had enough foresight to bring a change of clothes from their house. Or was it Ruth's house now? Would she ever forgive him? He wouldn't blame her if she didn't.

Ruth hadn't said a word when he'd got home. She'd known. She was overseeing the operation after all. Of course she'd known. The look of haunting anger and hurt on her face was worse than any words she could have thrown at him though. She didn't need to tell him how devastated she was, he could see every inch of it written plain as day on her face.

"Do you want to talk to me?" he'd asked quietly. She shook her head. He'd sighed and packed a bag quickly. "I don't blame you. I can't even look at myself so I can't imagine how you must feel." Still she hadn't spoken. Harry zipped up the holdall and looked at her, hard and long. He sighed heavily. "I'm so sorry," he said quietly. "It was a stupid mistake."

"Was it?" she whispered, finally speaking and her eyes brimmed with tears. "Or if you had your time all over again… would you sleep with her anyway?"

"I'm not going to answer that Ruth," he said, his voice very soft and gentle. "It would only hurt you." Ruth had let the tears fall then in silence, as if that was answer enough. Which he supposed it was. "I was undercover. And you know I had no choice."

"There's always a choice," she said quietly

"I'm going to leave you alone. I can't imagine you want me here."

"I don't," she said, lying both to him and herself. "Just… go Harry. Please." And he had, leaving her alone. Harry had nowhere to go. He refused to use a safe house, and paying for a hotel felt like a reward he didn't deserve. So he'd locked himself in his office, with nothing but guilt, misery and a bad back for company.

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**If you have a moment, a review would be great, thanks.**


	3. Chapter 3

Ruth kept looking at her watch every few moments and she knew perfectly well what she was waiting for. She was waiting for Harry to come through the pods and… do something. Ignore her or speak to her, right now she didn't care which. It was the fact that he was still absent which bothered her. She just wanted to see him again, and get it over with. By about twenty past nine she realised that he had indeed slept in his office. He hadn't been late to work in the entire time she'd known him unless he had a home office meeting, and he didn't today. She knew she didn't, which meant he was already in his office. With how early she got here, he must have slept there. She was torn between feeling sympathy for him and a blind rage. She hadn't enjoyed the slightly pitying looks she'd been getting all morning from the grid staff. Not Adam or Malcolm or Jo. Not anyone she worked with closely, but it was still irritating.

At around ten in the morning she was getting annoyed with his constant absence so she broke down. She sent him a message on the grids secure system.

_Harry, please act like normal at work. I can't bear the fact your hiding away, and everyone's whispering about the reason why. Do your job. R. x_.

She reread it, then deleted the kiss. Then she sent it. It took maybe ten minutes before he emerged. He had dark circles under his eyes and his forehead was wrinkled in thought or concentration as he walked over to the team, holding a sheaf of papers.

"Malcolm, I've just been briefed that the security for Buckingham Palace needs its annual update. Can you work with Ruth on that?" Harry caught her eye and she nodded in agreement as Harry turned to Adam to discuss the latest terror threat but Ruth tuned out. Instead she started to pull the current security plan for Buckingham Palace. It was one hundred and seventy two pages long. Long enough to completely absorb her attention and distract her. In her mind she thanked Harry for his thoughtfulness, before she remembered that she wasn't exactly on speaking terms with him. Then she began to read.

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The report took all day to read then edit. Ruth was delighted that she had serious work to do that she had to concentrate. After all, if she made a mistake it could lead to the Queens assassination. She couldn't make a mistake. By all rights it should have gone to the royal protection unit, but MI5 were obligated to check it once a year. She felt a rush of warmth towards Harry, because she knew perfectly well that he'd arranged this for her to work on and to distract her. Then she felt irritated that she should feel grateful to him. The bloody fool.  
And what was even worse was the fact she'd become so absorbed in her work that most people had gone home. She was dangerously close to being alone on the grid with Harry, and with that thought she put her coat on. Not fast enough. He approached her quietly, standing over her desk.

"We need to talk," he said. "If you can bear to speak to me yet."

"You need to book into a hotel," she replied quickly. "You can't keep sleeping in your office."

"Ruth, where I sleep isn't my main concern at the moment," he said quietly, although he felt a little touched that she had spent any time at all thinking about that. "Look, I'll be up on the roof. If you want to talk. If you're not there in half an hour, I'll get my things and go to a hotel."

She nodded, glad he was giving her some time to think. But she didn't really have to think very hard. Even after everything that had happened, the lure of Harry on the roof of Thames House was too hard to resist.

* * *

Harry pulled his coat tight around himself, the bitter wind cutting through him. He hoped Ruth would want to talk to him, but he didn't think he'd see her until tomorrow at work. Even if she showed, he didn't know what he'd say. Then he heard her footsteps. "I didn't think you'd come," he said. She stood next to him, leaning against the railing.

"Neither did I."

"Where's your wedding ring?" he asked, careful to make sure he didn't sound accusing. When she didn't answer he continued. "At the bottom of the Thames?"

"No," she said. "I'm hurt Harry and very, very angry, but I'm not a vindictive woman, and I wouldn't throw away something that was given with such love." She paused, catching his eye and knowing the deep feelings they shared for the other. Still, even after everything that had happened. "What happened to the bomb? I mean obviously it didn't go off, but…"

"It was disarmed in time," Harry said. "Just. She pressed the trigger, but I managed to… distract her for long enough that it didn't matter. SO19 had enough time. "

"That's good," she said absently. "Could you not think of anything else to hold her off pushing the trigger? Did it have to be sex?"

"Anything I thought of, I knew she'd shoot me then detonate it within seconds. She has no morals or scruples. My death wouldn't have bothered her conscience had I told her I was an undercover agent. Or tried to reason with her. The bomb would have killed thousands Ruth." She shrugged noncommittally. "Including you _and_ my daughter. Most people in central London would have died from the nuclear blast of it. London in general and Westminster in particular would have turned into ground zero, and you know it."

"Please Harry," she said, her voice quiet. "It's too soon and its too raw and painful. Please don't justify it. I know why you did it. I know the logic behind what you did, but I'm not feeling rational right now. And I am perfectly well aware that I wouldn't be here had that bomb gone off."

"I never meant to hurt you," he said quietly. "That's the last thing I ever wanted."

"That doesn't really matter. Because in the end it all hurts just the same."

He sighed, desperately sad. She sniffed, blinking her tears away. "I spent six weeks watching that bitch. Six weeks noting everything in her life, scouring CCTV and camera footage for her. Information which I then delivered to you. And I was such a poor analyst and researcher that we had no idea she was planning to detonate a nuclear bomb in London. We just thought she had links to arms runners, smuggling guns. Then you… I can picture it in my mind so clearly Harry. You and her… in that hotel room. I can see it Harry."

"I have nothing to say. There's nothing I _can_ say."

"I know," Ruth agreed. "And you're right. There is nothing you can say. Goodnight Harry." He watched her walk away, his heart sinking further with each step she took. Once her footsteps had receded, he spoke under his breath.

"I love you Ruth. I always will." Then he looked over the London skyline wondering, not for the first time, if protecting the country was worth the sacrifices that came with it.

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**Thank you for all the reviews so far. I hope you can leave another one. Thanks :)**


	4. Chapter 4

The next two days went by similarly, and much to Ruth's relief she didn't have any conversation with Harry beyond delivering the weekly terror threat. She was very relieved to reach the weekend, so she had time to herself to think and some peace to be without Harry.

Or that was the plan. On Saturday morning she'd managed to do two loads of laundry, wash her hair, vacuum her entire house and change the bed sheets. That was when the doorbell rang. Sighing she pulled her hair out of her face and answered it. She hadn't expected Catherine to be there.

"Hi Ruth," she said brightly. "Is dad here?"

"Er… no he's not," Ruth said quietly, thrown for a few moments. "Sorry."

"Oh," she said simply. "Is everything okay?"

"No," Ruth said. "Not really." Ruth moved aside. "Come in for a cup of tea."

"Okay great," Catherine said, going into the house. She saw the vacuum out and the washing hanging to dry. "Busy morning then?"

"Chores, you know," Ruth said, switching the kettle on. "How are you?"

"Really well," she said. "You don't look so good," Catherine added, seeing Ruth's drawn face.

"Your father and I have had an argument," Ruth said, forcing a smile on her face as she added sugar to the tea and then put both mugs down on the table.

"We'll get over it though." She realised as she said the words, she really meant them.

"What did he do?"

Ruth laughed slightly. "He's your father, and I'm only your stepmother. Yet you ask what he did wrong?"

"Well, I know him," Catherine said. "And you are far too good for him. Go on."

Ruth sighed, biting her lip and wondering what she should tell Harry's daughter. After all, the truth hardly reflected well on her father. In the end, Ruth couldn't bring herself to lie. "He slept with someone else."

"Oh God," Catherine said. "What an idiot. I didn't think he'd revert back to his old ways."

"It's not quite like that," Ruth said. "He was undercover. It was for a case, and it was… necessary. But it still hurts."

Catherine looked down and saw Ruth's bare left hand. "Are you going to leave him?"

"I don't know," Ruth said. "I can't imagine my life without him, but…"

"What are you going to do?"

Ruth sniffed, and looked away shaking her head. "I shouldn't be talking about this with you. It's not your problem."

"I know Ruth," Catherine said. "But I like you. Your marriage with dad has always been so much… more than my parents marriage. All they ever did was fight and scream, when dad bothered to be home. I hated it." Catherine ran her finger around the rim of her mug in thought. "As a child, you don't understand what's going on. But looking back, I know they were never suited to each other. You two, you're much better."

"Thanks Catherine," Ruth said with a small smile. "I don't know how to get past this one though."

"Where is he?"

"At some hotel," Ruth said. "I don't know where. Call him, he'd want to see you."

"Yeah, and I'll shout at him for being a complete idiot." Ruth laughed then, for the first time in days. It felt good to laugh. It faded away and silence filled the kitchen.

"I don't think I'll leave him," she said slowly. "I can't. I'll never love anyone the way I love him. But I don't know… if our marriage will ever get back to the way it was."

"Why do you love him?" Catherine asked. "I mean, he's my father, of course I love him. But he's a… hard man to get on with."

"Yeah, he is," Ruth said. "I always liked him. At work, he respected my opinion, and valued my input. He's a very moral man at work. He always tries to do the right thing, even when it's impossible to chose. That's where our friendship started. But love, can't really be explained." Ruth closed her eyes, for a moment imagining Harry here about a week ago. When her life was much simpler and easier.

Catherine could see that her presence wasn't really welcome, so she thought she'd go off in search of her father. "I'll call him," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Ruth said. "So am I."

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There was a knock on Harry's hotel room and he groaned with annoyance. All he wanted to do was talk to Ruth. With that option not looking likely, he wanted to sleep and not get up until this whole mess was sorted out. He wrapped a hotel issued dressing gown around himself and answered the door. Much to his surprise, Catherine was there.

"I thought you could buy me breakfast," she said with a smile.  
For a moment Harry was stunned into silence, then he smiled. "Yes, of course," he said. "Let me get dressed, and I'll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes."

"Perfect," she said, closing the door behind her as Harry rushed to get ready.

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"You're an idiot dad," she said with no hesitation, once their breakfasts were placed in front of them. It was half past eleven, so it wasn't really breakfast, it was more like lunch, but neither of them minded.

"You've spoken to Ruth."

"Yes," Catherine said. "You're an idiot."

"What did she tell you?" Harry asked, knowing Ruth well enough to know that she wouldn't have vilified him to his daughter.

"She told me she loves you," Catherine said, spearing a couple of mushrooms on her fork.

"She's too good for me," Harry said honestly.

"Oh, I agree," Catherine said swiftly. "Why?"

"It was for an operation," Harry said. "I didn't want to cheat on her, believe me I feel awful."

"I do believe you actually," Catherine said. "You'll never find a better woman than her. Grovel if you have to, just don't lose her."

"I don't intend to lose her," Harry said firmly. "Lets talk about you. How did you find me?"

"I guess I'm your daughter after all," she said with a small smile.

Harry dropped it. "How's your filming going?"

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Ruth had a bad weekend. She did all the housework possible, but it still didn't distract her mind. The graphic replays of Harry and that terrorist. She hadn't seen the footage, she'd left the grid as soon as it became clear over the listening devices what was about to happen. But it didn't stop the graphic images filling her mind.

By Sunday afternoon, she'd made up her mind about what she was going to do.

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**Thank you for all the reviews so far, hope you enjoyed this chapter too.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I honestly hadn't planned for it to go this way, but oh well.**

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Ruth called Harry and asked to meet him somewhere away from the house. They decided on St James Park and it was a fresh, chilly Autumnal day as Ruth walked through the park. Soon enough she found the bench where Harry sat. Slowly she sat next to him. "Thank you for meeting me here," she said, feeling awkward and uncomfortable.

He smiled at her easily. "I'm glad you're here," he said. She nodded, still slightly stiff.

"I hate the way I feel," Ruth said. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologising?" he asked in confusion.

"Because I hate what you did, but I know its not your fault. I know that you had no choice." She sighed. "God Harry, I don't know what to do."

"I know," he said quietly. "I don't either." The silence was only broken by the distant traffic and the wind. After a moment Ruth shuffled across the bench, closer to him. Harry didn't move, he barely breathed. Then she leaned her head against his shoulder. At first they were both awkward, but after a few moments Ruth relaxed against him, and he let his hand stroke her hair, hoping she wouldn't push him away. She didn't.

Ruth let herself be swallowed by the warm familiarity of Harry's touch. The nearness of him, and his familiar scent all contributed to her forgetting the past week for a few moments. It felt so good to be touched by him that she almost forgot the thing she'd came here to say. For a few minutes neither of them spoke. Harry enjoyed the closeness they hadn't shared in what felt like months, Ruth enjoyed his gentle touch, fingertips through her hair. It was when his hand went to the back of her neck that she knew she had to pull away.

"Harry, I love you," she said simply, facing him. "And I absolutely don't want to leave you, and I don't want our marriage to be over. Of course I don't." Harry relaxed at that, and she realised one of his fears was that she'd leave him. "But I need time," she said. "To forget this mess."

"I know you do," he said. "You know, when you're undercover, it isn't really you. Elizabeth Fortescue didn't sleep with Harry. She was with the man she knew as Thomas Kelly. It wasn't me, and I was only going through the motions anyway. It wasn't…" he paused before throwing caution to the wind and going ahead with it anyway. "It wasn't anything like what it is with you."

Rut stiffened and a slight blush coloured her cheeks. "Why did you destroy the tapes then?"

"Because I don't want you to watch them," he said firmly. "I don't want anyone to see them, but it would hurt you."

"What if it were me?" she asked suddenly. "What if I'd had to sleep with someone while undercover? I know it's unlikely," she added at Harry's look. "But just say I did."

"I'd be devastated," Harry said promptly. So quickly that he must have given thought about it before she'd even asked the question. "And very hurt. But also, I know that seeing things on tapes… it wouldn't help. If it were me, it would only be torture to watch and listen to them. That's why I destroyed them."

Ruth stayed quiet, but after a few moments she couldn't bear to not be touching him. She reached across the bench and held his hand, feeling the wedding ring on his hand. She was reminded of the fact that her own wedding ring was in her jewellery box at home. "Harry, I want a transfer."

He stiffened and looked at her with a mixture of shock and horror. But she didn't let go of his hand. "Temporarily," she said. "And I want you to move back into the house. In the spare room."

"That's a… that's two strange requests to put together," he said slowly. "Why?"

"Because on the grid, you're a different man to when you're at home. On the grid I'm reminded of the man who has to be cold and calculating. Who has to make the rational decisions which would turn everyone else's head. That's what you did with Elizabeth Fortescue. And everyday I'm on the grid, I'm reminded of that cold decision. So I need to get away for a time. Make it easier to forget. And I want you back home, because the Harry away from Thames House is the one I fell in love with. You're different personally and professionally, and I understand that. You have to hide who you are at work, in order to do your job properly."

He looked deeply in her eyes, understanding flowing between the two of them. "Besides," she said. "The house is too big and empty without you." He smiled slightly at that.

"Do you want to stay at MI5 in a different section or have a transfer to the Home Office?" Harry asked. "Towers has been looking to poach you for the last few months."

"You never said," Ruth said surprised.

"I thought you were happy on the grid," he said. "Plus every now and then the Home Office look to poach my desk staff. It's not exclusive to you."

Ruth laughed. "Oh, that makes me feel better," she said with a smile. "Thank you."

"I'll call today, so tomorrow you can go there instead."

"Do you understand where I'm coming from?" she asked.

"I do actually," he said. "It'd be nice to be… home. If you want me there?"

"Yes," she said. "Please."

"Okay," he said. "I'll be there in a few hours then." He didn't want to go over immediately because he didn't want it to seem like he was too desperate, or that he was pushing her. He knew it had taken quite a bit of courage for her to ask him to come home.

"Good," she said. "Thank you." He wanted to kiss her badly, but he didn't. That really was pushing it. He squeezed her hand and then let it go. Ruth felt the loss instantly, but only said goodbye as he walked away. She just sat, staring into space, wondering if she'd made the right choices.

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**Thank you for all the reviews so far. Hope you have the chance to leave another one.**


	6. Chapter 6

Ruth sat in the park for about an hour before she went home. The space, fresh air (for London) and the quiet were all welcome to her troubled mind. She went home, and Harry hadn't arrived yet. So she distracted herself by folding up the laundry and scrubbing her pots and pans until they gleamed. It was the type of housework she never usually had time for, but she appreciated the effort it took, now she needed the distraction.

She hadn't noticed time slipping by during the day, but there was a light knock and then her front door opened, letting Harry into the kitchen. He held a plastic bag which was clearly full of Chinese food if the smell was anything to go by. "I picked up dinner," he said.

"You remembered the pancake rolls?" she asked as her opening gambit.

"Of course," he said. "Three as usual."

"Great," she said, a smile colouring her face. "I'll get the plates." As she clattered around in the cupboard, Harry unpacked the food, opening the cartons. The heavenly scent drifted towards Ruth's stomach which growled audibly.

"When was the last time you ate?" Harry asked, trying not to sound critical.

"I don't really remember," she admitted. "But that smells really good."

Harry poured some wine (not white burgundy or anything that held a memory) and they began to talk. About soft general things. Books and films. Nothing too heavy, and nothing with memory either. They did not talk about their relationship or their marriage or anything to do with the grid or Thames House. In many ways it was like a first date. With the occasional comment like "I'd forgotten how much you liked Charlotte Bronte. Where are you in Villette at the moment?"

When their plates were clean, Ruth put them in the sink and turned to more practical matters. "There are clean sheets in the guest room."

"You didn't have to do that," he said quietly.

"No, I spent all of yesterday doing household chores," she said. "I had clean sheets. It didn't take much of an effort to put them on the bed did it?"

"Thanks," he said. The awkwardness was creeping in between them again and Harry wanted to avoid that. "I'll go to bed and see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight Harry," she said. He walked past her and she reached out for his arm, stopping him. He turned to look at her. "Just, don't move for a second," she whispered. She leaned towards him and pressed her lips to his cheek.

"Goodnight," she repeated. Harry was tempted to take her in his arms, hold her tightly and kiss her until the sun rose. But he didn't, because he knew perfectly well that was too fast. Instead he left the kitchen, and went up to the spare room.

Ruth sighed happily as he left and turned to do the dishes. That had been nice, and the slight rasp of his stubble almost burned her lips. In a very good way. She smiled to herself and refused to let herself think of Harry's recent history. It was too sweet a moment to spoil.

* * *

Harry didn't sleep well. Knowing that Ruth was only one wall away wasn't conducive to a good nights sleep. But being back in the house gave him at least a little peace of mind. Or a lot. When the morning rolled around, he needed some clean clothes. But the wardrobe was in her bedroom. He wasn't sure whether he should knock or just leave her alone to sleep for a little longer.  
He decided to give her some time, although the thought of watching Ruth sleep was an attractive one. Instead he went downstairs and made himself some breakfast. Toast and coffee. His mug was lukewarm by the time Ruth appeared, sleepy eyed and tousle haired. She poured herself some of the warmish coffee and drank it gratefully. "Morning," Harry said quietly.

She didn't speak until the caffeine had started to take effect. Harry wondered for a moment if she was ignoring him. "Good morning Harry," she said. "God, I slept like the dead."

"So I assumed," he said, indicating her dishevelment. She glared at him for a moment before she yawned loudly. Harry smiled at her. "Don't worry, you always look beautiful." That caused a slight pink tinge to her cheeks, but she looked pleased nonetheless.

"I'm going to go upstairs and get dressed," he said. "Let the coffee wake you up."

"Mm," she said with a smile. "That sounds like a good idea."

* * *

Ruth made herself some cereal and by the time Harry reappeared in suit and tie, she was awake and herself again. "I have to go," he said. With a sinking heart she recognised that tone of voice. That was his grid voice. The personal and private Harry had vanished into thin air.

"Okay," she said. "I'll see you tonight."

"Yeah," he said distractedly. "Good luck today. You'll be brilliant." Harry leaned down and kissed her cheek gently in goodbye. Ruth stayed still and within moments he was gone. Ruth sighed and went upstairs to dress. When she entered her bedroom, she paused, her eyes caught by her jewellery box. Where her rings still rested. She opened the box and quickly took her rings out, letting them glint in the sunlight. She was debating putting her wedding ring back on, but she wasn't sure she was ready. Going to the Home Office today though… she wanted there to be something to tie her to Harry. It was a completely new environment for her, and the thought of being cut off so completely from him was awful.

So she slowly slipped both her wedding ring, and her engagement ring back on her left hand. What surprised her was the sudden feeling of warmth and rightness that went through her with that small action. She curled her hand into a fist and felt the metal bands still cool against her skin. Yes, that was the right thing to do. She smiled at her hand, and remembered Harry on their wedding day. It was a good memory to hold on to.

* * *

**Thank you for the reviews so far. More soon.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm feeling rottenly ill, so I've mirrored that onto Ruth. I hadn't intended to take it this way, but I actually really like where it's gone, if its not too big headed of me. Hope you like this, and massive thanks to everyone who reviewed. **

* * *

Ruth found work at the Home Office easy. Manageable, but nothing like the challenge at MI5. But on the positive side it was a quiet and almost serene environment to the hectic desperateness that was the grid. By lunchtime Ruth felt a headache coming on. Not due to any worry, but her skull throbbed painfully. She did go out to lunch. She'd never managed to find a few spare minutes to buy some sandwiches at Thames House, so the luxury of a full hour was incredible to her. She didn't buy food though, she bought some pain killers instead and a coffee to wash them down with. An hour or so after that, her nose started running, her throat felt raw and breathing felt like an incredibly hard effort, all things considering.

Several of her new colleagues told her to home, but she wouldn't hear of it. That would be a very bad impression to give on her first day. She did however leave as soon as the clock hit five. She'd planned to stay longer, sorting out her new desk and files which had accumulated, even during the space of one day. But she felt so rough and ill that she couldn't stomach it. So she went straight home.

* * *

Once home Ruth couldn't concentrate on anything except going up to bed. She didn't manage to lock the door because lifting the key felt like too much energy right now. She managed to slip her shoes off, but then went upstairs and fell onto the bed, completely exhausted without undressing. She was asleep within moments.

* * *

Harry came home at around six in the evening to find the door unlocked. He felt a slight stab of worry about that. The house was too quiet, so Ruth wasn't here. Yes she was, he reminded himself, seeing her shoes strewn on the floor in the hallway. So unlike Ruth to leave them in the middle of the carpet, she usually lined them up. She was a very organised mind. Harry felt a thrill of worry go through him, thinking about intruders. If someone had come here… hurt Ruth maybe? She only wasn't on the grid because of him in the first place. Harry mentally placed every gun in the house. He had three here, the closest was in the kitchen drawer.

Walking almost silently, his instincts on full alert, he turned into the kitchen. Empty, and nothing out of place. He quickly opened the drawer and picked up the gun, taking the safety off. He knew the gun was loaded without checking. He always kept them loaded, and he'd held guns often enough to know the slight difference in weight. Or maybe that was just his imagination.

Harry checked out the whole of downstairs before he slowly moved onto the first floor. He checked the bathroom, the spare room and then had his hand on the door to their bedroom. Or what used to be their bedroom. He opened the door and saw Ruth sleeping. He let out his breath and lowered the gun, putting the safety back on. He looked at her, smiling and then realised what was wrong. She lay dressed, on top of the covers. The tip of her nose was red. Her breathing was harsh and uneven and she was asleep at six in the evening. He assumed she'd still be at work by now. She clearly felt ill.

He put the gun down on the bedside table and leaned over her, gently waking her. "Ruth. Are you okay?"

"Oh God, no," she murmured, her voice croaking. "I feel like shit."

"Oh, for you to swear it must be bad," he said, wrapping an arm around her.

"What's the gun for?" she asked, nodding her head at the table.

"The door was unlocked. Your shoes were strewn over the floor and I panicked… that someone other than you might be here. Stupid. I'm sorry."

Ruth let out a short laugh. "Spies." Ruth reached across and grabbed a bundle of tissues next to the lamp. She blew her nose loudly and then collapsed against the pillows, closing her eyes and sighing with exhaustion. "Oh, I just feel rotten," she said. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise for being ill," he said. "How was work?"

"A distant dream," she said. "It was all I could do to focus on taking the tube during rush hour to get home. Work was fine," she added at his look.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, needing to help her. "Food?"

"You can't cook," she said with a slight smile.

"No, but theres always toast. I can make a really great coffee too. Tea. Cereal. Then I might be struggling, but I'll give it a go."

"How about pasta?" she asked, a hopeful look in her eye. "Boil water then cook," she added. "With cheese on the top?"

"I'll give it a go," he repeated. She smiled at him. He leaned closer to kiss her but she backed away. He felt his heart freeze, and wondered if the ghosts of the past were coming back to haunt her yet again.

"You'll catch what I have," she said, sniffing. That made his heart start up again. So she was worried about him. That was a much better alternative.

"Then I catch what you have," he said simply. "Come here." She smiled slightly and let herself be pulled against him for a gentle loving kiss, on her lips. She smiled as he let her go and got up, going down to the kitchen. Ruth smiled at his retreating steps. Sometimes he really could be so sweet. It was worth being ill if Harry would spoil her like this. Ruth suddenly coughed up what felt like her entire right lung. "Well, almost worth it," she told herself as she took in a deep breath.

* * *

Ruth was dozing lightly when Harry came back upstairs with a large glass of water and a bowl of (slightly undercooked) pasta. Ruth smiled at him, moved over on the bed so there was room for him, and ate the whole lot.

"Thank you," Ruth said. "That was delicious."

"No it wasn't, but thank you for lying," Harry said simply. Ruth blew her nose again and sniffed. "You can call in sick tomorrow," he suggested, knowing how that would turn out.

"On my second day?" she said. "You know I won't do that. How many sick days did I call in sick when I worked for you."

"Oh just the once," he said. "When you were tied to a banister while a blackmailing thief took poisoned diamonds."

"Ah yes," she said. "A memorable occasion that. Do you know it took you five hours before you even thought it strange that I wasn't at work? I couldn't believe how long it took you!" She sighed. "And there was me thinking I was invaluable."

"You are invaluable," he murmured. "I was just stressed, tired and selfish. I didn't think."

"No you didn't," she agreed, but she was smiling. He kissed her tangled hair.

"You can't sleep like that," he said looking at her rumpled clothes. "Let's get you undressed." She stared at him. "Okay, that sounded better and less lecherous in my head."

Ruth laughed. "Don't worry. The way I'm feeling right now I doubt anyone on the planet could have lecherous designs on me." Harry wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Come on," he said after a moment. He helped her undress to her underwear and then pulled the duvet up over her. She sighed with relief, her head lolling on the pillow, eyes nearly closed with tiredness. "I'll leave you alone to your rest," he said.

"No, don't," she said. "When you come to bed, join me. If you don't mind being next to my contagious corpse, then… join me."

"If you're sure?"

"I could do with feeling taken care of for a night."

"Okay," he said quietly. "I'm going to get something to eat, have a shower and then come back to bed. Okay?"

"Mm…" she said. "Thanks Harry." He took his jacket and tie off as her even (if slightly heavier than normal) breathing filled the room. "Love you Harry…"

"I love you too," he said with absolutely no hesitation at all.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry did get into bed next to Ruth. She didn't stir as he lay next to her and got comfy. It was early for him to be in bed, but he'd got his wish. He was watching her sleep. And even with a nose red and sore from blowing it so much and heavy breathing, she still looked beautiful.

She shifted slightly and Harry caught sight of her left hand. It was no longer bare. Both her engagement and her wedding ring were resting there. She'd put them back on. The thought warmed Harry to his very soul. She would get over this. Together they would get past this. The fact that she'd put her rings back on meant the world to him. Even if they never worked together again, even if she never felt comfortable on the grid, it didn't matter. Their marriage would survive. As long as Harry wasn't required to go undercover again, which he'd do anything to avoid.

Ruth rolled over, her arm ending up draped over his chest, skin to skin. He'd missed her, and it felt good to be touching her, illness notwithstanding. Even if he did catch the virus she had.

* * *

In the morning Ruth woke stiff and sore, but the fact that Harry's hand was resting on her breasts was a very positive thing. His touch felt warm and soothing. Harry moaned quietly and she knew he was still half asleep as he pulled her close to his chest. But she didn't protest as she felt his body lined up behind her. It felt good. His fingers sleepily found her nipples and started stroking just the way she liked. She sighed happily, even though alarm bells were starting to ring in the back of her mind. His right hand slipped down to her stomach and she moaned lowly, even as his fingers went lower.

Not that she was particularly adverse to where things were going but she didn't want the first time after… well, after, to be in a sleepy haze which neither of them could really remember. So she reached for his hands to stop their movement and said loudly, "Harry."

"Mm, Ruth," he murmured into the back of her neck, kissing her behind her ear.

"Stop," she said calmly. He did and came awake with a jerk. His hands left her instantly as she had known they would and she sighed with disappointment.

"God, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean… I'm sorry."

"No," she said. "Don't be sorry. I just thought you might prefer being awake."  
Harry smiled at her. "So that means…"

"Yes," Ruth said rolling her eyes slightly. "When we have time and I'm not feeling this rough." Harry grinned, his heart leaping with joy.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked. "Are you feeling better?"

"A little," she said. "A glass of water and some paracetamol would be great."

"Coming up," he said. He walked into the bathroom and opened the cabinet. He found the painkillers and then froze. There was a box resting on the shelf. A pregnancy test. "Christ." He picked it up and saw that the box was open, but the test hadn't been used. "Bloody hell."

"Harry?" came her soft voice from the bedroom. He'd been standing there frozen for several minutes in shocked awe and hadn't noticed. He carried the painkillers, her glass of water and the pregnancy test back into the bedroom.

"I found this," he said quietly, holding up the pregnancy test. Ruth said nothing but took the water and the painkillers. She swallowed the pills and then saw Harry staring at her, shock and bewilderment on his face.

"Don't worry, you can lower your blood pressure. I'm not pregnant."

"Then why is there a pregnancy test in the bathroom?

"Because I thought I might be," she said.

"How do you know you're not?" he asked. "The test hasn't been used."

"There were two in the box Harry," she said. "Trust me, I'm not pregnant. You can stop panicking."

"Oh." Ruth looked up at him, realising with that one word that he sounded massively disappointed.

"Did you want me to be?" she asked quietly.

"Well," he said quietly. "It would be nice. It's a.. nice idea. And yes. I am a little disappointed."

"Harry… we don't have time for a baby. They're loud, messy and demanding. They require sleepless nights for years. I just assumed… we're too busy for a baby Harry."

"Such a logical answer," he said, smiling ruefully.

"Do you… do you want a baby?" She sat up, shocked at the turn this conversation was taking.

"I have… this picture in my mind of you holding our child," he said softly. "It's a stupid dream."

"You've never mentioned this before," she said.

"Well, like you said, it's very impractical," he said. "Plus it's not been the first thing on my mind this week."

"Yeah," she said, reminded of earlier events. "Can we not talk about that? I want to forget it. If I can."

"Have you forgiven me?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know," she said slowly. "I'm on my way there though."

"That's good," he said quietly. "You know I love you."

"Yeah," she said. "I know.

"Breakfast?" Harry suggested after a moment of quiet between them.

"Please," she said. When Harry left the bedroom Ruth found herself reeling. Out of all the ways she had seen the conversation after they'd been in bed for the first time since that operation, that hadn't been one of them. She shook her head trying to clear the images that were invading her mind. But for the first time in days, Elizabeth Fortescue's face wasn't among them.

* * *

She didn't get a chance to speak to Harry again before work. Even feeling a bit rough, she was determined to see through the full work day. Her mind was busy with all the possibilities that Harry's suggestion had created in her mind. She barely had any time to even think about Elizabeth Fortescue and Harry's indiscretion. A part of her wondered if Harry had only suggested this to distract her from brooding over that bloody undercover operation. She knew he hadn't, but she had always assumed that she and Harry wouldn't have children. She was nearly forty, Harry was even older, and for a long time she'd been single so children had seemed to fade from lifes opportunities for her. They'd never talked about it, but she just… assumed children weren't in her future. Now this had thrown her completely.

By the time she got home her head was spinning. The problem with her new job was that it gave her mind time to wander. MI5 was so hectic that she rarely had time to think, and when she got home (usually late) she was so exhausted, thought was impossible. Now she had time, and was very concerned where her thoughts were taking her.

When she got home, Harry was already there, sitting in the lounge reading the paper. "Were you serious?" she asked without even saying hello.

"About?" he asked, folding the paper closed, seeing from the look on her face that this wasn't going to be a quick conversation.

"This morning. The baby conversation."

"Oh," he said. "You're feeling better then."

"That's not the point," she said, even though it was true. She was feeling a bit better.

Harry sighed and stood up, walking over to her. He put his arms lightly around her waist and looked into her eyes. "Yes I was serious. But forget this morning," he said. "I don't want to upset you, and from the look on your face, you've been thinking about it all day." Ruth sighed, but she didn't look away. "It was my imagination. A dream. I don't need a baby with you to be happy," he said. "I do need _you_ in my life for me to be happy." From the look on his face, Ruth knew he was thinking of his mistake. That wasn't the important thing to her right now, and with that one thought, in that simple moment she knew that she'd forgiven him. Elizabeth Fortescue didn't matter. No one else mattered. Only them.

"Forget that," she said to the unspoken thought. "Seriously, forget about that psychotic terrorist. I'm not going anywhere, I'll be here with you."

"You mean that don't you?" he asked.

"I do mean that," she said. "Forget it. I don't want to think about her any more. I'm tired and bored of thinking of her and you. It didn't mean anything, and I know that. I just don't want to waste my time thinking about it Harry."

He smiled at her, a truly sweet smile which was reserved only for her and she knew it. He leaned towards her and kissed her deeply and tenderly. Their conversation wasn't by any means over but they let it drop for the time being. Their mouths were being used for more important things right now.

* * *

**Thank you for the reviews so far. More on Monday ish, I've got a busy weekend.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, this is the last chapter (save for the epilogue). This conversation didn't go any way I planned, but after countless tweaks, I've just decided to go with it. Enjoy.**

* * *

Ruth reached up for the blanket, draped on the back of the sofa and pulled it over their naked bodies. Harry stroked her hair softly as she pillowed her head on his chest. "We shouldn't have done that," Ruth said with a smile, more comfortable than she'd been in weeks.

"Why not?" Harry asked, letting a hand drift down her back.

"Because we are too old to indulge in lustful acts on the floor," she said. "We should have at least found our bed."

"Oh I don't know," Harry said easily. "I rather enjoy the fact that… when we come together its so explosive we can't even wait for the few minutes it would take to find a mattress."

Ruth laughed into his chest. "I love you Harry," she whispered, before kissing his skin lightly.

"Mm, love you too. My beautiful sexy wife." He paused and Ruth could feel the awkwardness beginning to creep back in.

"No Harry," she said. "I've forgiven you and I'm not going to throw it back at you, but I cannot have that woman's name mentioned in my house. Are we clear?"

"Yes," he said.

"Good." Ruth kissed him deeply, drew back and smiled at him. "And if you ever sleep with anyone else, I will cut your penis off and shove it down your throat." She spoke so calmly and with such a lack of malice that Harry had no doubt she would carry out the threat. If he were ever in this situation again (which he vowed not to be), he would have to hide the knives.

"Fair enough," he said. If it happened, it would be no more than he deserved. He bent his head and kissed her softly, to dispel that rather graphic conversation. She rested her head on his chest and both of their hands gently explored each others body until the relaxation seeped back into them.

Ruth smiled, feeling more at ease than she had in so long. "We never finished our earlier conversation."

"No we didn't," Harry agreed. The baby conversation. "Look, I don't want to push you into anything. I don't want to do anything that would make you unhappy. Anything at all." Ruth was reminded uncomfortably of previous events which she didn't want to think about. The thought faded surprisingly quickly from her mind "Just forget it."

"I don't want to forget it," she said.

Harry stroked her hair. "No?"

"No," she said. "You threw me for a bit, because you'd clearly given it some thought, and I'd given it none at all."

"None?" he asked, feeling his heart sink.

"Well, you know," she said. "You always have that thought that you'll have children one day. Then time creeps up on you before you know it. I always wanted children. Well, child. I think one would be more than enough."

"So you're saying…"

"I'm saying, that if it's what you want too then I'll stop taking the pill and we'll see what happens. I mean, it might already be too late. I might be too old to get pregnant. I might be barren. There could be a hundred reasons why I can't get pregnant."

"I don't want you to do this for me."

"I wouldn't," she said. "I know what it is to be a child who wasn't wanted."

Harry looked at her for a moment. "Are you talking about yourself?"

"Yes," she said. "My mother never wanted me. She had a child because that's what you do after you get married. Once my dad died, she had no interest in me. I was inconvenient to her. I wouldn't inflict that on a child Harry, no matter what."

"Your mother wanted you," Harry said quietly as he stroked her tangled hair.

"No Harry. She didn't," Ruth said simply. "It's okay. I stopped feeling sorry for myself in that particular regard a while ago." He kept stroking her hair softly and she sighed. "If we do this, I want my child to have a father."

"You're implying that if our marriage falls apart, you still want me around."

"I'd give anything, to have one more day with my dad. Just one more day. I don't want you to walk away. Like you did…"

"With Catherine and Graham," Harry said, finishing the thought. "I was a bad father. Then," he said pointedly. "Jane didn't want me anywhere near them. I fought, for a while, but… I gave in. I threw myself into work because it was easier than fighting with my ex wife for access to my children. And then I'd been away too long, and I gave up. I was a coward, and I gave up on trying to see my own children." He sighed, clearly disappointed with himself. "I'm not a fool Ruth. I don't make the same mistakes twice. And you would have to shoot me to keep me away from any child that we might have."

"Good." Ruth leaned up and looked at him, and he could see a powerful emotion behind her eyes. He just didn't know what it was. "Harry, please… I want to say something. Please, please don't hurt me again. There's only so much I can take, you know?

"I know," he said. "I never want to hurt you. I'm so sorry. For anything stupid I do that does hurt you. I care more for your happiness than my own. Maybe I shouldn't, but I do."

She smiled at him, feeling at peace. "So," she said. "We'll see what happens?"

"Yes," Harry said, knowing what she was referring to. "We'll just wait, and see what happens."

* * *

**Just the epilogue now. Thanks for reading, and especially reviewing.**


	10. 2 years later

**2 years later.**

"Okay sweetheart, hang on." Ruth pulled off the T shirt she slept in with no thought to her dignity or privacy, and then cradled the babies head against her breast. He latched on hungrily and the crying abruptly stopped. Ruth sighed with relief as her eardrums appreciated the sudden silence.

"He okay?" a croaked voice came to her right.

"Just hungry," Ruth said. "For someone who gets up out of bed for every phone call, you're mysteriously deaf when it comes to our son, crying in the middle of the night."

"I'm not deaf to it," Harry said, shifting in the bed slightly. "But you do hear it a second or two before I do. And anyway, there's no point in me getting up for him. I can't feed him."

Ruth turned her head and smiled at him. "I know," she said. "When he doesn't need my breasts every few hours, you're the one who's going to get up in the middle of the night for him.

"Okay," he agreed easily. They'd had this discussion before. Ruth turned the baby around in her arms so he could suckle on the other breast.

"Whose brilliant idea was it to have a baby?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

"Oh come on," Harry said easily. "You love him more than you will ever love me."

Ruth leaned back on the bed and faced him. "It's different and you know it," she said. "Plus I see you in him every day."

"What, balding and grumpy?"

"Oh essentially yes," Ruth said, making Harry laugh. Her eyes caught his for a moment, sparkling and happy.  
"Are you… happy?" he asked hesitantly.

The baby had finished feeding now. "Let me put him down, I'll come back."

He listened over the baby monitor as Ruth cooed over their son and he smiled. Soon she was back, and she got into bed, cuddling up to Harry. "Yes, I am happy. Tired. My nipples feel red raw, but yes, I am happy. I take such joy in our son and our life. Are you?" she added after a pause.

"Happier than I feel I have any right to be," he said. He kissed Ruth's neck and then collapsed on the pillows, pulling the duvet over them both. "He's beautiful. Like his mother."

"I don't know about that," Ruth said.

"Well I do," he said firmly. "He's gorgeous." Ruth snuggled against him and sighed with happiness.

"I love you Harry," she said.

"I know," he said. "And I love you. Now sleep. He'll need you in a few hours."

"Oh great," she said sarcastically. "Then another day of changing nappies, crying and exhaustion begins."

"Do you regret it?"

"Regret what?" she asked.

"Any of it."

"Well, I regret never making things up with my mother before she died. I regret that she never got to meet her grandson. But with you? No," she said. "I don't regret a single second of us. Goodnight Harry." He held her close and closed his eyes, before drifting off to sleep.

* * *

**The end. **

**Thank you for the reviews for this fic, and it would make my day if you could leave another one. Thank you.**


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